Trial Periods
by BekahGee
Summary: Rose embarks on her 7th year at Hogwarts to learn some valuable life lessons about growing up...Armed with her parents impeding divorce and a top-secret relationship status far beyond complicated, she finds entanglement within some less than desirable circumstances. Not to mention, one tremendously monumental predicament on her hands. RW/SM. Rated M for a reason.
1. Separated

**Title: Trial Periods**

 **Parings: Scorpius/Rose, Hugo/OC, Albus/OC**

 **Rating: M for language, eventual smut, and adult themes.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters other than the ones I've created myself.**

* * *

" _Separated?"_

Rose rolled the delicate word carefully over her tongue as if repeating it aloud would somehow conjure up an ulterior meaning. There simply had to be one. She shifted her weight uncomfortably atop the sofa cushions, briefly glancing over a Hugo who sat beside her wearing an equal expression of discomfort.

Hugo, on the other hand, was silent; blue eyes completely fixated atop their plush living room carpet, as if he were trying to discern some cryptic message from their white wool fibers. He didn't react through any type angered scowl or staggered facial expression, remaining placid as could be given the less than pleasant circumstances.

Rose's reaction, in contract, was the polar opposite. Fiery and heated; mirroring their temperaments with perfect reflection.

The brood had already been at it for a solid five minutes, their conversation circling back around once more through futile banter. Rose began yet again, justifying her harsh question as purely for clarification purposes despite its saucy tone.

" _So you're getting a divorce?"_

"No!"

Their parents both answered back in perfect unison, looking at each other briefly as if trying to discern silently which one of them should speak next. Rose beat them to it - taking it upon herself to fill the awkward silence with speech, as was typically the case throughout any sort of family event. Even one as horrendously disagreeable as this.

"What do you mean 'no'? Why would you need a _'trial separation'_ then? If you're not obviously planning on getting divorced _eventually_ ," Rose's tone was persistent, narrowing her eyeballs at both parents. "What even is that? Like a break? Like the ones bloody fourth years go on when they're just too chicken to fully break up with eachothe-"

"Will you just shut up already?" The fifteen-year-old's voice was brash and finally vocalized, aimed towards his sister without even so much as a solitary glance upward. "Maybe let them talk for a solid sixty seconds, and you'll actually find out! What a crazy concept."

Rose's jaw snapped shut, shooting Hugo an angered scowl. The hell did he even know?

"Hugo, don't tell your sister to shut up." Hermione's voice was soft but stern, arms crossed over her chest as she stood relatively adjacent with her husband, the pair a maintaining solid two arms-length apart in distance.

For good reason, _apparently_.

Hugo muttered back insincerely, "Sorry."

Rose was still manic; needing no less than one hundred different questions answered at the exact same time. She had seen her parents only a couple months' prior, during Easter holiday for an entire week, and they had seemed fine. Perhaps not wondrously splendid, but fine enough. Certainly not on the road to ending a bloody marriage or splitting up the entire family.

"So where are we gonna live then?" Rose's impatience won, yet again. "Are we moving? Did you sell the house already? I'm still so confused…We just got home yesterday, and you're going to drop this bloody atomic bomb on us, NOW? Have you even _TRIED_ marriage counseling? I heard it's quite successful if both parties are willing to wor- "

"Bloody fucking hell Rose," Hugo spat under his breath, ignoring the violent glare shot by his mother over the blatant use of profanity. "It's like you physically cannot shut up, isn't it?"

She was furious over the accusation; Hugo's explicit lack of urgency over the news they'd just received making matters far worse than necessary. They were supposed to be a united force on this matter, he was supposed to be taking her side. Not the other way around. Gritting her teeth, she felt her fists clench into balls of anger before replying back defensively, "And it's like _you_ don't even care at all-"

"Nobody said anything about selling the house," Ron finally interrupted, looking down into his daughters searching expression. "You'll both still be living here with your mum during the summer holiday, and for any other school-year breaks, if it comes down to that. I've already found a flat which I'm going to be renting out, _temporarily_ …In Diagon Alley, right across from the joke shop. We'll see each other every day if you want to, Rosie. Don't worry…things are going to work out, I swear."

 _His own flat? Don't worry. DON'T WORRY?!_

His own flat - without his best friend of thirty-three years (wife for over twenty) and their two teenaged children by his side. Like some bloody nineteen-year-old bachelor, living off frozen pizza dinners and sleeping on a twin sized mattress with no sheets. Rose could only imagine that would eventually become the case.

Could he even _function_ without a woman's guidance around? Was there _another_ woman around? When would they _really_ even see each other, in all actuality, though? Every other weekend…evenings-only during strained and uncomfortable visitation dinners?

Her thoughts raced mercilessly.

"We wanted to give you both some time to settle in last night before announcing it," Hermione avidly piped up. "We've been talking about this happening for a while now."

 _A while now?_

How long exactly - weeks, months, years? Their entire marriage was ripping apart from the seams, and they both seemed so incredibly calm over such a drastic matter. Perhaps they were just expertly good at pretending? All the evidence pointed towards yes.

Her expression went blank for a moment. Rose wasn't stupid, she knew there were problems; for as long as she could remember, they had bickered back and forth like an old married couple. Which, of course…they were! The squabbling seemed second natured at that point. So why then, all of a sudden, had their marriage become such an easily dissolvable union? As if nothing could be done in lieu of reconciliation other than living completely separate lives.

 _Till death do us part_. More like till we get bored and life gets hard. Rose figured that's what most marriage vows typically meant, anyway.

"Yeah," Ron chimed in quickly. "This has been a long time coming, I'm afraid. And it has absolutely nothing to do with either of you. We just need some space apart, that's all. Some time to figure out what direction we need to be headed in next."

Rose hardly believed that answer.

 _"Are you seeing other people?"_

Hugo groaned with exasperation. Rose swore she could see a vein about to burst from her father's head over the very implication.

"Of course not!" Ron reacted immediately, perhaps a bit too severely.

"Not in the slightest," Hermione agreed, squashing down the ridiculous notion with her easy-going retort. "This isn't because of some blown-up affair, dear. Nothing of the sorts, I promise. And you know, we'll still always be friends with one another. No matter what the outcome happens to be."

Right, of course. How very likely that was.

"First and foremost, we're your parents," The words caused Rose's eyes to roll, Hermione's fluttering claims being what she could only consider forcibly amicable, at best. "We love you, and we're here to discuss anything you'd like to talk about. We want you to feel completely comfortable coming to us whenever needed. Either of us. For anything. We'll always be a family, no matter what…remember that, alright?"

God, the overused clichés were enough to make Rose upchuck her lunch from hours prior. The conversation was utterly vile. Painfully awkward and uncomfortably real. Even she was at a complete loss for words, something quite rare for the redheaded Gryffindor. A silence fell over the sitting room as not a single Granger-Weasley clan member voiced a solitary word.

"Can I be excused now, please?" Rose finally spoke, evading eye contact just as Hugo had done so well previously.

"Yes," Ron nodded his head as a signaled permission for her to leave the room. He seemed well past finished with the conversation at hand, too. Like father like daughter. Avoidance was far easier than beating the issue to death like an already dead horse. "We'll talk about this more at dinner."

"Which I won't be attending," Rose declared heatedly, emotion creeping through without any type of conscious effort. "I'm going over to James'. I'm not staying here right now."

"I've already invited all of them over for dinner later tonight," Hermione supplied quickly. "They'll be here in a couple hours, around sevenish. I wanted to-"

"Oh. Lovely!" Rose exclaimed colorfully before Hermione had a chance to finish her explanation. "Brilliant plan, mother. Just what we need! A family therapy session. Is grandmum coming, too?"

"Rose, I-"

"So _they_ all know; I take it?" Rose's eyes burrowed deep into her mothers. Searching, but also piercing back harshly - in way she hoped sparked displeasure throughout the older witch. The same displeasure she was feeling herself. "You told them already?"

"Harry and Ginny, yes," Ron answered this time. "We're planning on telling the rest of the gang later on tonight-"

"Perfect! Might as we'll invite the editor of the Daily Prophet over herself for tea time and crumpets afterwards, yeah? Announce it to the entire wizarding world while we're at it? I can see the headlines now..."Golden Couple's Foreseeable Split: Minister for Magic Newly Single and Riding Atop Her Broomstick Solo.' Innuendo very much _intended_."

Childish – she realized how incredibly immature of a reaction it was, but her hands were nearly shaking with frustration. She didn't understand how ridiculously upsetting it was all becoming, the anxious jittering flowing throughout her veins making it near impossible to remain impartial.

"Rose, that's not at all what's going on here!" Hermione snapped sharply, sighing dejectedly before she continued, pressing her palm to her forehead in noticeable exasperation.

 _Yes._ She was feeling that same displeasure Rose already having felt. She smiled ever so slightly, transforming fully into the deranged lunatic which seemingly had developed into somewhat of an alter ego as of late. It satisfied her more than it should have.

"You're throwing a dinner party to announce your divorce," She quipped haughtily, standing up from her seated section of sofa. "That's exactly what's going on here, is it not?"

"We're not getting divorced!" Ron's voice made even Hermione startle, the pair giving each other a quick, unreadable glance.

"It's fine if you are," Rose fought back almost instantly. "Just bloody be honest about, at the very least. Stop tiptoeing around the subject, like your marital status is, 'that-which-must-not-be-mentioned.' The fucking d-word hardly means-"

 _"LANGUAGE YOUNG LADY!"_

It was Ron who loudly scolded her, almost completely uncharacteristic of a man who swears like a drunken sailor most of the time. Rose had a feeling it was actually the _other words_ which sparked the outburst, validation of his crumpling marriage and diminishing life quality being brought further into the light. "It's just for a couple months Rose, blimey – all you can think of is yourself sometimes, you know tha-"

"Stop it! Both of you!"

Hermione hurriedly interrupted before the red hot Weasley-tempers could go and spark flames upon her marvelously well decorated family room. Well, not so much _family room_ any longer. Rose mused silently to herself. Single mother with two children's living quarters felt more like it.

"We just figured it'd be nice to have your cousin's around tonight for a bit," Her voice was back to being smooth and calm, as usual. "We haven't told anyone else other than family, and we'd like to keep it that way. At least for a little while. Understand?"

No.

Rose didn't understand much of anything. Her emotions mirrored nothing even remotely close to understanding or empathy over the situation. The longer she remained surrounded by the tense air inside their sitting room, the more anger she felt build within the pit of her stomach. Confused anger, not easily swallowed down or ignored.

She wanted out.

Out of the uncomfortably tense living room. Out of her impeccably decorated and well maintained, two-story, Victorian-era childhood home. Out of Muggle London, and back at Hogwarts for her upcoming seventh year...At least in school she was always prepared for what came next. Well, typically. Though even that had become questionable as of late.

She practically wanted out of her entire bloody family - beautifully immaculate on the outside, but in reality, so incredibly broken once you get close enough to see the cracks.

Why hadn't she been born a Potter? James, Lil, and Albus never had to go through such bollocks. Their family truly WAS perfect; their parents still loved each other. Their lives weren't going to become a complete shit-show, uprooted through what could only be classified as _the worst_ summer break Rose was ever going to live through.

"I'll be upstairs in my room."

With that announcement being made, the young witch spun on her heels without so much as a second's hesitation, barreling towards the staircase leading upwards before either parent was able to speak a word of objection. Though, they both seemed to know better than to demand any sort of return from her.

"And _she's_ the older one?" Hugo's sarcastic voice could be heard all the way from the top perch of staircase, causing Rose to scowl with annoyance.

" _She just needs time. That's all."_

Her mother's words were hopeful, but the feeling which pounded though Rose's chest was not. She slammed her bedroom door violently upon entrance, casting a locking charm without even needing to speak the incantation aloud.

God bless finally being seventeen; it felt brilliant to use magic without needing the confines of school grounds surrounding her. _Freeing_. She was getting quite good at nonverbal spells, especially that one in particular. Merlin knows, it surely was cast enough.

Rose swallowed roughly, feeling warm tears beginning to well behind her hazel eyes as she collapsed atop the unmade mattress. She cried, mainly for her parents and their dissolving life together, but also knowing the pitiful blubbering went far beyond just that.

 _Fuck._ It had been six months already! Six months and it still hurt. It still bloody hurt like the events had only just happened yesterday. She had been doing so well, so incredibly good at capsizing the invasive thoughts.

Rose reminded herself yet again – this was exactly why relationships were a worthless waste of time. Even more validation added to the confirmation bank. Nearly all of them ended eventually; most of them miserable until the day that ending finally came. Fighting, fucking, and figuring out why you ever got into such a terrible agreement with another human being in the first place...

Gods, Lily was right. She was cynical. Jaded beyond repair.

And she needed out; she needed freedom from her suffocating home like a caged convict from Azkaban needed sunlight. A distraction. She wanted _her_ distraction.

Knowing she would probably come to regret the hasty decision made through emotional mayhem, and at the hands of loneliness, she contemplated briefly her actions before making them. Was it seriously worth the risk? The risk of discovery and potential complications.

Yes, yes it was.

Rose's verdict was impulsive, the Gryffindor grabbing a piece of blank parchment and a quill from her untouched school bag, before plopping down at her desk to hunch over and write the dimly thought-out letter. Dipping her feather in the black inkwell, she scribbled hastily, tears starting to freely slide down her freckled cheeks and blurring together the messy words.

 _Hey,_

 _Are you busy tonight?_

 _My parents just told Hugo and I they're getting a divorce…Fully expecting for us to hold hands around the dinner table tonight, and sing Kumbaya with the Potters over this lovely revelation._

 _I'd rather get kicked in the shins, to be honest. I need out of this hell house. Literally anywhere else would be preferable at this point. I'm desperate._

 _If you're busy though, it's fine. I'll see you sometime soon._

 _-R_

So much for only telling family.

* * *

There was a tapping noise at her closed bedroom window. Rose glanced up.

Merlin, the reply was speedier than she had anticipated for. The book held within her grasp was immediately set down – having not even gotten through a full chapter since her brown spotted owl was originally sent out for the impromptu departure, the time still not yet past six o'clock.

She stroked the owl's neck feathers distractedly, causing her bird to coo affectionately as she untied the small roll of parchment attached to its thin leg. She pulled the twine away with ease. "Good girl," Rose smiled at the small creature, returning to her bed to unroll the letter and read over its beautifully scrolled content. Simple and straightforward it was.

 _Hello,_

 _No, I'm not busy. And I'm sorry to hear that. You can tell me about it tonight, if you want._

 _Where did you want to meet?_

 _-S_

Fuck.

Rose cured under her breath, almost half wishing he had rejected the dubious invitation without further explanation. Knowing in actuality, if he had, she would've been even more disappointed than originally before. No, not disappointed. It's fairly impossible to be disappointed by something (someone) which meant so very little towards your present life. No, not disappointed – displeased.

She wasted not a moment in replying.

 _Meet across from the Leaky Cauldron at 7pm._

 _See you soon._

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! Just a fun (and future smutty so be forewarned) ScorRose story I've been working on. I'm fairly sure this concept has been done approximately seven hundred different times throughout next-gen fanfiction, but I wanted to put my own spin to it. There will definitely be some twists and turns, I can promise you that.**

 **Oh, and please forgive any proof-reading errors which may be present. The area is not my strongest, though I do try my best.**

 **Thank you for reading, and please let me know any thoughts, questions, concerns, etc. I'd love to hear them.**

 ** _~Bekah_**


	2. The Bus Stop

**A/N : Probably worth mentioning, this story will NOT follow Cannon with The Cursed Child. I've made Scorpius and Al's personalities quite a bit different. Although, I suppose you could just chalk that up to them being seventeen in this, versus fourteen. If you really wanted to...**

 **Either way, happy reading! :)  
**

* * *

Rose grimaced with unease, pulling the denim jacket tighter around her torso as she felt an obvious set of eyeballs latch themselves onto her from behind.

The man steadily slowed from his brisk pace across the pavement, giving out multiple once overs with his darkened gaze while leisurely walking past her partially-shielded frame. She remained emotionless, sitting completely frozen atop the empty muggle bus stop while trying her absolute hardest to glance _anywhere_ other than at him and his noticeable ogling. The bloke looked closer in age to her father; the beige trench coat, unnerving gawk, and grey mustache combo together he sported causing an unsettling flutter within her empty stomach.

She let out a sigh of relief as the older man exited from her proximal vicinity, (walking up and finally passing where she sat) without fully stopping to exchange uncomfortable or inappropriate speech.

 _Thank bloody Merlin._

Rose's eyes fluttered downwards, releasing the denim shield away from her chest and questioning whether the outfit –despite being meticulously selected with immense scrutiny – was a proper choice for the... _event_ she was about to attend.

She had initially thought so, but was soon growing more and more unsure.

A black maxi skirt, which donned a thigh-high slit down the side, along with matching brown gladiator sandals covered her lower portion; offset by the sheer white cropped blouse and a light-washed denim jacket casing her upper half. Her hair was charmed into a messy bun, stands of curly red hair falling from the spell's confines with its typical untamable demeanor. The cropped top which she had chosen _did_ show off a conservative amount of cleavage, alongside the faintest hint of midriff, making her second guess the already scrutinized clothing selection even harder.

Did her efforts come off as trying too hard? She certainly wasn't _trying_ for anything that night, and she definitely didn't want it to appear as so.

Maybe there was _a bit much_ cleavage showing – the push-up bra was surely doing its job better than originally anticipated. _Shit_. Rose silently cursed Lily, and the girl's ever-so convincing ways, into making her purchase the ridiculous item during their most recent shopping trip together. It was her first time wearing the article of clothing, the outlandish claim which was printed on its tag (" _Increase two cup sizes instantly!")_ somehow proving to hold unbelievably true. Muggle women just truly did not receive enough credit when it came to making due without transfiguration magic or beauty charms.

Rose nervously pulled at the blouse's scooped neck, drawing it upwards towards her collarbone with the hopes of covering as much visible skin as possible. The effects were futile, white fabric instantly falling back down to its former position once her fingers were removed from the purposely low-cut edges.

Brilliant. She looked like a readily willing and available slag. Waiting to be picked up from the corner bus shelter by something far different than the intended muggle mode of transportation.

Though...wasn't that what she actually _was_ doing? The bus route itself didn't even run past five on weekends. She obviously sat there waiting for something else. Who was she even kidding?

Rose pressed a single thumb down onto the center button of her muggle mobile phone, its screen illuminating with the time, date and multiple un-cleared notifications in bright text.

 _6:58._ Plenty of time to quickly apparate back to her bedroom and toss on a practical, yet fashionable, turtleneck and sports bra. Nothing quite screams aloofness like a jumper worn to your bloody ears and a flattened down chest.

 _No, no – absolutely not._ She reasoned with herself, using the questionable amount of logic which still remained. It was June; she could not wear a fucking turtleneck in the middle of June. Really, she couldn't quite justify it at any point of the year, but especially not during (even what might have been the _coldest_ days of) summer.

Rose sighed with defeat and straighten out her long black skirt as she crossed one leg over the other, the slit down the side causing a good portion of her limb to be exposed.

It would simply have to do.

She allowed her eyes to gaze forward, looking at the building across the street from where she sat. The rugged structure (on the outside) looked to be your typical run-down store front within one of London's lesser traveled streets. It stood sandwiched between two neighboring shops, all three buildings looking equally as non-maintained and desolate. Rose smiled to herself, knowing the inside told a far different story.

The muggle entrance to the Leaky Cauldron sat below a large and private noncommercial residency, the homey complex maintaining a dark stillness without the presence of anyone occupying it. Rose wished desperately that she was able to waltz straight in and run upstairs, just as she'd done countless times prior. She needed Ali so bad right then; the girl would undoubtedly know the perfect things to say, along with knowledge of exactly what to do.

 _She always did._

Her best friend Ali Longbottom had already left that morning with her parents, headed for Germany on a two-week long holiday, before the bomb of atomic sized proportion was dropped atop the Weasley-household. They were visiting Ali's extended relatives and wouldn't be coming home until early July; much to Rose's immense dismay.

Family vacations – something Rose could only imagine would never crease themselves within _her_ life ever again.

She pushed down the slow-creeping thoughts of guilt over the images of Ali, mixed with the anticipation of what she was about to do. Some best friend Rose was...they were supposed to tell each other everything.

But not this. No, never _this_. It was hardly even worth the fluttering of mention.

So she didn't.

Glancing back at her phone, Rose scowled. _7:03._ The tosser just always had to make a bloody entrance, didn't he? She looked back up, after a few brief moments of scrolling through the untouched notifications, just in time to watch a familiar figure exit from the Leaky Cauldron's main front entrance. She watched as the tell teenaged boy glanced around, the heavy wooden door swinging shut behind him while he gazed the premise momentarily – his eyes finally coming in to lock with her own.

Rose crossed her arms, leaning back against the bench's firm support while watching his figure stroll smoothly towards the empty bus terminal. She smiled despite herself, breathing in the unexpected appearance of simple, dark colored jeans, and a grey quarter-zip pullover. So unlike the typical ensemble she was accustomed to seeing him in. Blond hair untidy, but not in the same way her or Al's ever behaved. As if he purposely meant for it to look like that. Shaggy, yet somehow still perfectly well put together.

He looked handsome, but then again, he always did. So disgustingly handsome; she hated it.

"You're late Malfoy," she announced once the blond was within earshot. "Got caught up looking at yourself the mirror again?"

"Hardly," Scorpius quipped, hands shoved into his jean pockets as he finally reached alongside her seated position. "Missed me so much we're counting the minuets now, are we Weasley?"

She glared up over the accusation, repeating his word with identical inflection. " _Hardly_."

"I was surprised you suggested us meeting here," the blond noted, nodding his head towards the building parallel to them. "Not afraid of Longbottom spotting us together anymore?"

Rose narrowed her eyes over the flippant use of her friend's surname. "She's on holiday with her parents until July. So no, not at all."

"Ah, well that partially answers my other question then," he smiled, showing off a top row of perfectly straight and brilliantly white front teeth. "Out of everyone, you chose to owl _me_ to see if I'm free on a Saturday night? I'm flattered. Really, I am."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't be. Seeing as everyone else is either busy, out of the country, or related to me – you were my last resort."

She told the lie effortlessly, knowing they both knew how much of a blatant falsehood it was.

"Ouch," he winched, clutching his arm across his chest. "Last resort, huh? That hurts."

"Like I said," she breathed, glancing down at her feet. "Anything was preferable to staying at home tonight and suffering through some unbearable family dinner."

"Can't say I blame you for that one."

Scorpius' expression grew a hair more serious, staring down at the empty space next to her with a look of contemplation; a mild disgust shown though his handsome features over the option to sit down beside her or not.

"Really, Malfoy?" Rose smirked, feeling a sense of lightheartedness over his humorous hesitation. "I've seen some of the girls you spend time with, and you're worried about getting diseases from _a bench_?"

"Oh, ha-ha," Scorpius drawled, finally rolling his eyes before reluctantly sitting beside her. "How very interesting of you to take note. Unless you were referencing yourself just now, Weasley?"

"Yes," she replied back sarcastically, scooting over to accommodate his presence. "I was, actually. Me and all of my half-blooded, Weasley-heritage, diseases. Oh, by the way-!" She gave him a once over with her index finger. "I do love when you go and play muggle-dress up, Malfoy. It's fascinating, really."

" _Fascinating_? Were you expecting dress robes?"

"No, but seeing you in jeans is like seeing a fish out of water. Makes you almost look like a normal, run-of-the-mill, teenager... _almost_."

"As opposed to?" he pressed further, holding his palms out in question and leaning down against his thighs. "What exactly?"

"Oh, I don't know." Rose bit her bottom lip, the air between them light and flippant. "As opposed to some pureblooded heir of a centuries old wizarding fortune...Who I'm sure grew up in, basically, buckingham palace; adorns using words like _indubitably_ in a sentence, and probably was forced to partake in some bloody ridiculous constructs while younger. Like a using a salad fork, or ballroom dance lessons-"

"You don't use a _salad fork_!?" Scorpius exclaimed, trying hard not to laugh between haughty words, faking an overly forged sense of horror. "Were you raised by a herd of trolls?"

Rose smacked his arm playfully, both of them bursting into a light fit of laughter over the playful remarks. She knew he was joking, but a part of her questioned whether or not there was a shrewd of seriousness over the matter.

There really wasn't any knowing with him.

He continued, "-And never once in my fucking life have I used the word ' _indubitably'_. Nice try though, doll."

"And the ballroom dance lessons?" Rose sneered, putting her hand up to her mouth to stifle an unwelcomed giggle. "What about those?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one spilling out _your_ life story?" the blond joked. "Not the other way around."

"Don't evade the question, Malfoy!" She was grinning wildly now, not even making an attempt to hide it.

"I'll stop when you do," Scorpius pushed gently, causing her face to fall ever so slightly. He paused for a moment, then continued, "You know you can tell me about what happened earlier, Rose." He spoke directly at her, the two of them meeting gazes. The airy tone was completely changed. "I'll listen."

She drew in a sharp breath, both over the residual emotional whiplash and the usage of her first name rolling freely from his tongue.

"I'm fine," Rose started slowly, looking down. "Really. It was just a little shocking at first, I guess. Weird...uncomfortable. And bit irritating," She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I mean, I wasn't expecting it AT ALL to be honest...and then Hugo's just bloody sitting there the entire time! Silent, and acting like he doesn't have a fuck in the word to give about much of anything."

The words spilled so effortlessly from her lips. It was unlike any of the exchanges they typically engaged in. Strangely personal, lacking its normal mocking demeanor.

Scorpius snorted, "He's a fifteen-year-old boy...he probably doesn't. What can you expect?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she shook her head, saying the retort in reference to multiple different thoughts. "But in the moment I was just so-so _angry_. I don't know," She repeated again. "I guess I over-reacted a bit."

"You tend to do that sometimes," He shot her one of his famous Malfoy-smirks. "But then again, you have the right to. With this at least."

"I suppose so..." she trailed off, glancing around at the quiet street. "Honestly, I just wanna be back at Hogwarts already. To get away from it all. For good. Or well, at least for a few months."

"How very typical of you - spending your free time fantasizing about being back in charms class already, only two days into summer break. Bloody swot if I've ever met one."

Rose smacked his arm playfully once more. "Honestly, at this point, I'd take back-to-back double potions versus enduring an evening spent with my crumbling family unit."

"Or apparently, sitting at urine covered bus terminal," Scorpius teased. "Was this what you had planned for our evening tonight? Just curious."

"Oh. My apologizes," she answered back with equal mockery. "Is this event not living up to your rich-boy expectations –?"

Rose paused abruptly, glancing over at Scorpius just in time to see him pull out a small cardboard carton from his trouser-pocket, flipping open the box's top fold to expose multiple, perfectly aligned, rows. She watched as he pulled out a single pre-rolled white stick, vocalizing her disgust after he placed the item between his closed lips.

" _Uck,_ " Rose scrunched up her face with disgust, the click of a lighter making her forget instantly what she had been saying. "That's _vile,_ you know."

"I'm sorry. How rude of me," he jeered, finally exhaling a puff of grey smoke in their opposing direction. He held out the open pack towards her. "Did you want one?"

Rose narrowed her eyes while pushing away Scorpius's outstretched arm back to his side. Knowing they both knew perfectly well the answer, she ignored his previous question.

"How did you ever manage to pick up such a sickening habit from Albus anyway?"

Scorpius chuckled to himself, flicking cigarette ash onto the pavement between them. "I love how you assume I picked it up from _him_. And not the other way around."

Rose chuckled back, "Oh right... funny. Like you're the bad influence, Malfoy. I think I know my cousin a bit better than that."

"Well, I just presumed that's what your entire family thinks," he shrugged lightly before taking a long, drawn out inhale, of what lay between his two fingers. "Especially after what happened over Easter break. Remember? I'm sure him smoking _these_ were the last of their worries…"

"Oh god," Rose groaned, shaking her head as the past events flooded back into her mind. She couldn't help but feeling amusement over the memories of her family's petty drama which had managed to ensue less than three months prior. It was slightly hilarious. Surely, a much better type of drama than what was currently ensuing.

Her Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry had been absolutely _livid_ over the incident which had occurred back in late March. After having found what they considered to be… _unmentionables_ within Al's bedroom; James and Lily just simply laughing hysterically over their brother's typical rebellious demeanor. They relished in being the _good children_ , as Lily so often put it.

"That was just careless stupidity on Al's part. He was bound to get caught with that rubbish, eventually."

"But of course, everyone automatically assumes I had something to do with it," Scorpius threw down what was left of the burnt through cigarette, stomping it out with one foot. "I just remember my father coming to me with this colorfully worded letter sent out by the Potters-"

"Wait, what?!" Rose interjected, eyes widening with horror. "They told your dad? I didn't even know there WAS a letter. James never told me that part."

"Oh, there was definitely a letter," he nodded with a wide sneer. "Sent out right before Al ratted out his muggle cousins for being the people who ACTUALLY supplied him with…shit, what was it again? _'Drug paraphilia'_ and ' _liquor-supply large enough to libate a small country',_ I think were the words that got thrown around. The letter itself was quite funny, really."

" _Funny_?!" she repeated. "Al got his arse chewed out so bad by my Aunt Ginny that night! She told him that he wasn't EVER allowed back at the Dursley's house anymore! Unless it was for some bloody 'family-type-event'."

"Right, well – their fault for being the ones who truly believed he was spending time with those _insufferable_ muggle relatives of his because he just simply enjoyed their company. _Please_. Have they met them?"

"Gods, how I worry about that boy…" Rose shook her head absently. "Did you get in trouble, too?"

"Not exactly," he began explaining with that silly smirk again. "However, there might have been a _slight_ _tiff_ after my dad caught nearly-half of the Slytherin quidditch team outside smoking and drinking...within the gardens of the Manor…three nights later."

Rose's eyebrows shot up in shock. "Please say you're joking."

"Nothing happened. Relax," Scorpius quickly explained with a laugh. "He just told me to never let my grandparents catch us. And that if we were going to steal bottles of firewhisky from the liquor cabinet, _'at least make it less fucking obvious'_."

"You idiots," Rose put her hand up to her brow, shaking her head with disdain. "Malfoy, you could quite literally murder somebody in the middle of your kitchen and still only get a slap on the wrist for it."

"Not true– "

"My parents, on the other hand," She ignored his objection. "Would skin me alive if they caught me so much as smoking one stupid little fag. Nonetheless, smoking…well, _you know_."

"So, do they have any idea where you are right now?" he questioned curiously, looking dead center into her hazel orbs.

She furrowed her brows at the preposterous notation. "Do they know that I'm sitting at an empty bus stop? After having snuck away without telling them, discussing drugs and alcohol with the only child of somebody they both _very much_ dislike-?"

"I mean; I'd hardly call it a dru –"

"No," she cut him off, pursing together her lips to keep from grinning yet again. "No they absolutely do not. And I'd love to keep that way…I'd imagine they'd skin me alive for this as well."

"Really…? They're that serious, huh?" he leaned in closer, grey eyes still not breaking away from her own. "Then I wouldn't even want to fathom what they'd do to me for _this_."

"For wha – ?"

Rose's speech was brusquely interrupted, soft lips roughly crashing against her own as Scorpius reached a hand up to cradle her neck within his open palm. Rose instinctively leaned into his overpowering movements, kissing him back with equal vigor as she scooted closer.

He tasted of smoke and reeked of expensive cologne. The identical cologne he stereotypically wore, and the distinguishable smoke which regularly infiltrated his breath. She should have pushed him away.

She should have pushed him away the past fifty other times, too.

He was vile, just like his habits. He was Scorpius Malfoy. Everything and anything which she did not need in her life – right there, sitting beside her, snogging her senseless.

 _"You look incredible tonight, by the way."_

Scorpius's whispered words caused her breath to catch briefly within the back of her throat before swiftly transitioning back to aimlessly locking lips with him once more. Forgetting effortlessly the less than ideal setting they were presently sitting in, they kissed. And kissed.

His taste was of smoke; scent retaining of pungent cologne…But his _touch_ was absolutely incredible, fingers pressed up against the crème colored skin of her neck, his mouth fitting perfectly together with her own.

And for the moment, nothing else much mattered anymore.

* * *

 **A/N: Teehee xD A little silliness mixed in with this introductory chapter… Still just trying to outline the characters a bit more.**

 **Hopefully the next one will be much more eventful. Until then, my loves.**

 _ **~ Bekah**_


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